Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You
by Keep Holding On
Summary: Shnawyer fanfic, takes place in the first season, prior to Boone's death though later chapters will include Boone and all that jazz. Let's pretend Sayid never existed. :O No flaming, pleeeease.
1. First Encounter

Note: I don't own LOST, though I damn well wish I did. This chapter is set, let's say, a week before Boone dies. Also, I like to think that Sayid never existed. And neither did Kate. Or rather - Kate just got with Jack the moment they crashed. Eg, 'wanna stitch me up?' 'sure' 'wicked' quickly followed by much love and kissing. oO BY THE WAY. This isn't as graphic/mature as some of my others, though my nasty nasty mind might end up making it as such. This story, though, has (shock) EMOTIONS. Very un-me. But enjoy it. If you can.

Her hair suited her better in a ponytail. She knew that.. But Boone liked it down. He said he liked something he could run his fingers through. And Shannon liked to tease Boone. She inspected her flawless reflection in a cracked, dusty square mirror. She figured it had come from what had once been the plane bathroom - and she thanked the Gods she'd got it before that bastard Sawyer had.

She tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Sawyer...

God, she hated him. And that freaking nickname he'd given her.

But...

Something about his charm, his looks, his style, his essence of cool made her want to rip open his loose cowboy shirts and kiss those rock-hard abs...

Shannon swallowed hard, shoving the mirror back in a suitcase she'd claimed. With the manicured nail of her thumb, she scraped away a smudge of clear, natural collection lipgloss that had somehow left her lips. Three coats of Max Factor mascara coated her eyelashes, just below a smudge of Moonstone eyeshadow from collection 2000. She had lined her greenish-brown eyes with Rimmel Black Kohl. Ah, the joys of finding your make-up bag under a corpse covered in sand.

Shannon pulled back the midnight blue sheet that she used as an entrance and exit to her little shelter. Slipping on a pair of hot-pink jelly flip flops, she adjusted her white denim hot pants on her hips. A tiny red halterneck was all she wore on the upper half of her body, bar her bikini of course. The fierce sun blazed down directly into Shannon's vision, and she was forced to place a hand on her brow to prevent severe damage to her eyes. No matter, she we was heading towards the caves anyway. She veered to the left, the sudden dense jungle allowing her to drop her hand and open her eyes fully. She hooked her left thumb into her skirt, dragging it down abit sideways, and looking down at her hip as she walked forwards. She pulled the side of her skirt down to reveal a strap of her bikini bottom. She was feeling particularly 'popular cheerleader slut' today, and who knew who she might run into -

BANG.

Admist her thoughts and trying to show as much as possible without being unlady-like, she banged straight into (of all people) Sawyer.

"Well hey there, Sticks," Sawyer purred appreciativley, putting his hands on her hips to stop her from colliding more painfully with him.

Shannon snapped to attention, hitching up her skirt. She scowled, slapping his hands away. God, she hated him.  
"Get your hands off me," she growled, trying to get away from him.

"Nice bikini," Sawyer said, very bluntly.

Shannon span on her heel, and took a deep breath through her nose - her expression unreadable at the moment. Soon after, an obviously false, sugar-sweet expression immediatley replaced the disgusted look of before.

"I know," she giggled, "It was expensive too."

Sawyer arched one eybrow, standing in what he obviously thought was a dominant power-stance. The typical Sawyer smile kind of relaxed this appearance though.

"Yeah," Shannon continued, still acting like a little girl - the way she said it made it sound more like 'ya.  
She stalked towards him, shoulders back for breast emphasis, and rolling her hips seductivley. She put one hand on his chest.

"Careful, Sticks," Sawyer laughed, putting his hands up in mock surrender, "Don't touch what you can't have."

Shannon started to giggle - high pitched, and very not her, then her expression snapped right back to the nasty, scowling one she'd had previously as she pushed him right onto the ground.

"There is /nothing/ I can't have," she snarled, starting to walk away.

Sawyer was taken aback, but razor-sharp reflexes meant he lunged to the side and grabbed her ankle. Shannon immediatley fell, flinging out her hands in front of her just a second too late. She kicked him, tilting her head to stare angrily at him.

"What the hell did you do that for!" she demanded.

But Sawyer had already shoved her on her back, and was straddling her, forcing her down. Shannon screamed, absolutley horrified. Sawyer silenced her with a hard kiss, plenty of tounge. Shannon tried to resist, writing and biting his lips. She kicked at the sand, trying to free her arms from his strong hold.

Sawyer pulled back, scratching her face with his stubble as he did so.

"Better?" he said hoarsley, still grinning.

Shannon finally managed to wrench one arm out of his grip and slapped him. Hard.

"Get the FUCK off of me, Sawyer!" Shannon yelled, desperatley kicking the sand.

"Loving the way you said fuck there, Sticks," Sawyer teased, licking her neck.

Shannon stamped her foot as best as she could, pinned down. She slapped him again, though not as hard as last time. She was still afraid, still shocked, still full of hatred - but a desire to pull him down onto her was starting to seep into her being. She bit her own lip.

"Softening towards me, mm?" Sawyer murmered, his face dangerously close to hers.

"Oh, you'd know all about SOFT, wouldn't you," Shannon spat, even though she could feel his cock getting harder and longer against her thigh.

"Really? Let's find out." 


	2. Running From Him

(( This is somewhat shorter than the previous. I have a habit of making my chapters unfortunatley short. Anyway, still don't own! ))

They were both completley naked. Sawyer was lay flat on top of Shannon, still inside of her, with his eyes closed and his head lolling over her shoulders. Shannon was shuddering, completley drenched in sweat. Her mascara and eyeliner were smudged, as if she'd been crying... which she had been very close to. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, the image of Sawyer coming down on her and tearing her moist pussy apart flashing straight into her head. Shannon whimpered, opening her eyes and looking sideways at Sawyer, who still seemed to be asleep. Shannon felt like bursting into tears again... Even though it hadn't really been rape. Much to her distaste, she had found herself bucking her hips and groaning his name, sliding her tounge into his mouth and wrapping her long legs around his waist. She blamed passion. She had had the most amazing orgasm though, so intense, so powerful, so hot that it had brought tears to her eyes. Normally she was a screamer, but this time her breath was caught in her throat as he slammed against her, riding out his own orgasm. Sawyer had squeezed her breasts as Shannon arched her back, eyes blazing with ecstacy. And then he'd collapsed, breathing hard on her shoulder. They'd stayed like this for minutes, maybe even hours, breathing and sweating over each other, before Sawyer had feel asleep. Trying not to wake him, Shannon wriggled out from underneath him. Sawyer shifted, and murmered something in his sleep. Shannon froze in fear - but Sawyer did not awake. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, Shannon managed to stand free. She desperatley put her bikini on, sliding the skirt onto her hips. She grabbed the flip-flops and scampered away. The coarse sand, sharp twigs and little bits of plane wreckage, almost shrapnol, scratched her feet, and thin branches of various trees whipped at her face and arms, though none of this bothered her. She needed to get to the caves - get to a supply of clean water. Then she'd wash herself, though she knew she was, and always would be, tainted with Sawyer. Shannon stumbled out of the jungle, tripping over a stray log and dropping her things.

"You alright?" asked that black man, who Shannon had never been able to remember the name of.

Grabbing her halterneck and shoes with one hand, Shannon mumbled what sounded like 'I'm fine' whilst trying to smooth down her hair. She ran to the left - God, why were there people EVERYWHERE? Finally Shannon found a little part of the river/stream that didn't have anyone in close proximity. She stripped down for the second time that day, and ran straight into the water. The icy-cold temperature hit her like a ton of bricks, and she gasped. She stood still, then walked slowly right into the centre of the little pool she'd found. Taking a deep breath, Shannon dipped her head under. She came back up, gasping for air and running her hands over her head. She did this five times, until the temperature became somewhat manageable. With shaking hands, Shannon rubbed herself clean, until it came to her 'downstairs'. Reluctantly, she touched her cunt... It was still coated with cum, a mixture of hers and of Sawyers, and was still wide. Shannon finally felt the tears come pouring down her face, and she choked on her own sobs. With the heel of her hand she desperatley wiped away the tears, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down; but the image of Sawyer cumming inside of her clashing with that one night she'd spent grinding on top of Boone seemed to be on constant replay inside her brain. She sobbed loudly once more, splashing her face with water. It took her probably about half an hour to calm down and get herself clean, before she stepped out of the water and replaced her bikini.

"Stupid fucking island," she cursed to herself, "Stupid fucking no towels. Stupid fucking water. Stupid fucking Sawyer. Stupid fucking Boone. Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

In spite of herself, she stamped her foot, putting her halterneck and skirt back on. She knelt down and washed the sand off her flip-flops, then put them back on. Her hair was still sopping wet - but for once, she didn't actually care.

Sawyer woke up, his face in grass and his body sweaty. He frowned, propping himself up with one hand. It took him a moment to clear his head, before he looked around.

"Fucking Sticks," he snarled, convinced that she'd nicked his clothes... Then he saw them up a tree.

"Oh. Right," he mumbled.

Sawyer stood straight up, rubbing at his tired eyes as he walked with no trace of embarassment to the tree for his clothes. Oh well. No-one was around, anyways.

Sawyer pulled his boxers and jeans up in one, leaving his belt undone, and slipped on a checked shirt, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows and leaving the top three buttons undone. He sniffed. He could still smell Shannon - or rather, he could smell Pure Poison, by Dior.

Sawyer smirked.

Pure.

Poison.

...How very fitting. 


	3. Perfect

((Okay - this is the chapter I was warning you about! Alot of graphic sexuality and stuff, so if you're uncomfortable with it, don't read it, I'm begging you. My nasty little mind often gets its way into these stories... Anyway, still don't own.))

Three days had passed since Sawyer and Shannon's encounter. Whilst Sawyer had been lurking around the jungle, waiting for any appearance or mention of her, Shannon had been hiding in her shelter, Boone bringing her water and stopping people from entering. Sawyer finally figured it out - but he knew of a way to get Boone away from her. He'd told him where to find some male moisturiser! Damn it, that pretty boy was so fucking vain...

It was late evening, and everyone was just returning to their shelters. Sawyer pulled back the drape, and stepped right into her shelter uninvited. The shelter was lit by tea candles, smelling of rose, their little flames burning brightly. Right on the middle of the sand-covered ground was a pink pashmina shawl, upon which was Shannon was sat, painting her toenails a pretty ballet pink. On the left of her were two big suitcases, and a couple of bags. Sawyer was sure that one of these bags was probably Boone's. On Shannon's right was a makeshift bed - a couple of big plane seats forming a single bed matress, with a couple of blankets acting as a duvet. Now was the first time Sawyer had seen Shannon with her gorgeous soft blonde hair pulled back - a couple of loose strands trickling down past her eyes. She was wearing a pair of light blue, denim hotpats with frayed ends, and a plain pink vest top. Sawyer couldn't help but notice how cute she looked curled up with one of her long, tanned legs hugged close to her chest.

"Boone, I told you, I am not going into the forest with you just because you've got some stup..."

She trailed off, her expression falling and her pale pink lips opening when she saw that Sawyer was there, and not Boone.

"You been avoidin' me, Sticks?" Sawyer drawled.

He got down on all fours, his eyeline directly level with hers, and he was smirking dangerously. Shannon breathed heavily, running her tounge over her top teeth. She didn't respond, only threw her nail polish bottle away and looked down at the ground.

"I don't know why you would..." he continued, crawling closer to her, "After the way you fucked me back..."

"Sawyer..." Shannon croaked, sounding almost sad.

Sawyer blinked, looking at her hurt face. This was very un-Shannon behaviour - he'd expected to get a slap in the face, or at least a couple of scathing insults. It didn't stop him from being a pervert, though.

"God, I love the way you say my name - especially when you've got those long legs spread /wide/..." he laughed.

Shannon choked.

"Sawyer, for gods sake, stop it, you... raped me!" She knew she was lying.

Sawyer released a short bark of laughter.

"I don't think so, Shannon, you took off your own top. You pushed up against me. You groaned and told me to go faster. You - "

"Okay, fine, you didn't fucking rape me!" she yelled, looking straight at him angrily, "But I don't... don't... I don't want it to /ever/ happen again! EVER!"

She had her fists curled into balls. Saywer stopped.

"What's the matter, you scared or something?" he laughed, though his laugh was somewhat faltered this time.

"Yes," Shannon answered determindley, staring at him unblinking.

There was silence for a while, simply looking at one another. Shannon was nibbling on her bottom lip, and Sawyer was confused. All of a sudden, he leant forwards and kissed her. Shannon broke it off, gritting her teeth behind trembling lips to stop the tears from falling. She was shaking her head slightly, unable to use words. Then, completley out of the blue, she lunged forwards and grabbed the back of his neck. She paused, staring into his gorgeous blue eyes, then kissed him right on the lips. Sawyer seized her by the waist, returning her deep kiss and occasionally flicking his tounge into her mouth. They were both upright on their knees, wrapped in a tight embrace. Sawyers hands trailed her back, rubbing at her spine whilst her fingers explored his long hair. Their lips parted, and Shannon nibbled at his neck, biting and sucking. Sawyer nuzzled her hair, moaning slightly. She pushed him backwards, and straddled him.

"I love you, Sawyer," she said into his neck.

"I love you too," Sawyer replied.

Neither of them knew what they were saying, but it wasn't one of those cliche moments where they both suddenly realised their love for one another. They just kind of accepted it, and moved on. Sawyer pulled her top up over her head, and she unclipped her bra. She was sat upright on top of him, straddling her, and for a while they just sat there as Sawyer admired the way she looked in the candle light, and particularly her full, rounded, perky breasts. Her nipples were hard, god, those things looked so beautiful. Eventually Shannon fell back down on top of Sawyer again, and Sawyer seized her ass through the denim whilst she unbuttoned his top and threw it aside. Her hands trailed across his abs as the bulge in his trousers became bigger and harder. A soft moan escaped her lips when he pushed his groin up against her crotch. She kicked off her shoes, and unzipped his pants. She ripped off the pants, shoes, and socks in one go, then returned back up his legs to throw away his boxers. He was so beautiful, and so big, and so hard, that she took him straight into her mouth - kissing away the drop of semen already on the head of his penis. She licked his shaft a couple of times, cupping his hot and heavy balls, then started sucking, absorbing him. He was so hard, and so big, he slid down into the back of her throat, and she could feel herself becoming sopping wet between her legs. Her head moved back and forth, and Sawyer writhed against the sand, mumbling her name and letting out soft groans from the bottom of his throat. His hands held the back of her head, pushing her down further into him, and she started moving her head faster and faster, sucking harder than she had before.

And then he did cum, spilling out into her mouth. She lapped him all up, making sure to keep sucking and moving her head just a little longer than was required, for his pleasure. She sat up, bouncing on his erection but not quite going into him, and looked down at him. He was slightly sweating, and had a smile on his face, as he stared at her. Shannon unbuttoned her shorts, dragging them down and off her ankles. She threw them onto the same pile as his clothes, but didn't take off her panties yet, and just looked at him with a soft smile playing on her lips.

She quickly whipped off her panties, and Sawyer rose his hips ups and pushed his penis into her. Shannon moaned, shutting her eyes and rolling her head back. She fell on top of him, breasts pushed forwards, grinding her hips into his. He rose his hips and dropped them continously, getting harder and faster with every thrust.

And it was beautiful. Everything about these two was beautiful. Their matching tanned bodies holding each other and breathing in time with the other. Even in the flickering light of the remaining candles, anyone could see it. They fitted each other perfectly.

"I want you." 


	4. Want

((This chapter is after Boone dies, like two days after. Still no joy on the owning front, alas. :())

From Sawyers point of view...

I want to hold her. Want to tell her it's okay. I want to make love to her but I want it to be comforting. I want to tell her that it will be okay again, and that everything will sort itself out in time. I want to breathe on her shoulder and her neck, and let her tears soak my clothes. I want to make sure that she doesn't feel guilt. I want to kiss her soft skin, and I want to love her more than I ever have, ever before. But I don't know if I can. I don't know how.

From Shannons point of view...

I want him to stay away. I want him to let me breathe. I want to know that he's here for me, but only when I'm ready to need him.. But I also want to curl up on his lap and let him hold me. I want to bury myself in him. I want him to always be there, but I want him to leave me alone. I want him to know how guilty I feel. But I want him to yell at me until it brings me back down to earth. I want him to fuck me harder and nastier than ever before so I can cry even harder, because I love him and it hurts. But I want him to leave me alone. And I want him to love me. 


End file.
